


tell your baby (that i'm your baby)

by far2late



Series: i bet on losing dogs [4]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adopted Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempt at Humor, Backstory, Childhood Trauma, Crayons, Cute, Cute Kids, Domestic Fluff, Drawing, Family Bonding, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light Angst, Mentioned Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Past Child Abuse, Plot, Prince Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Wilbur Soot, Ranboo-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Shapeshifter Wilbur Soot, Some Humor, Some Plot, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, a smidge, dont ignore the wilbur lore!!, fluff with some plot, like barely - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:40:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29625777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/far2late/pseuds/far2late
Summary: "As he walked through the halls, he found himself familiar with the interiors, despite how long he hadn’t been there. It was like muscle memory, eyes sweeping over the glass ceiling that let down blue-tinted light onto the ground and made him feel like he was illuminated. It was akin to being an angel of sorts, or the same sort of glow that Phil’s holographic feathers would get in any lighting. Wilbur was a bit jealous of those, but his ability to shapeshift into a crow was good enough to keep him going.He paused as he caught sight of someone in the dining hall by themselves, squinting as he saw it wasn’t anyone he recognized. Wilbur made his way a bit closer, standing by the doors as he examined who was sitting at the large mahogany table. It was a child, he realized after a moment. Looked to be around six, scribbling at what looked like scraps of parchment with crayons and a cow plush sat in front of him."orwilbur and ranboo meet and talk a little bit.
Relationships: Ranboo & Wilbur Soot
Series: i bet on losing dogs [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2171235
Comments: 38
Kudos: 843
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	tell your baby (that i'm your baby)

**Author's Note:**

> twt is far2early :] drop a follow

Despite making the promise that he would visit Phil and Techno regularly, Wilbur found himself falling short. It felt a bit scummy to use the excuse that he didn’t have enough time nowadays, being the one to oversee the lands, but it was just the truth. He didn’t have time between trying to make sure small countries didn’t tear each other apart to drop in regularly and see what was going on with his family, make sure that they didn’t find themselves missing him too much. 

Maybe a bit of vanity came into that last part, but he digressed. The last that Wilbur remembered hearing of the Antarctic Empire, the faction that Phil and Techno had been so proud of, was that they had settled and decided to stop fighting for a while. It was surprising, to say the least. What he knew about his adopted brother more than anything was that he wouldn’t turn down a good fight, and neither would Phil, so to hear this development was more shocking than not. 

It was what had motivated him to stop by the castle they claimed as their own, entering the large domain after nodding at the guards, who recognized him and let him through. It left something of a goofy smile on Wilbur’s face, remembering the times he would have to sneak in through the windows to spy on Techno in the library before kicking at the loose piece of glass in the back left corner to make his way through. The first time he did that he ended up with a sword at his throat, but eventually, it became a common occurrence. 

Wilbur was just glad that Phil had been accepting of his nomadic ways at the time and accepted that he didn’t want a place to stay, just a family to call his own. Techno and he had proved to be great for him, drawing him back from the brink multiple times whether or not it was unknowingly. He had yet to introduce them to his newest songs, the ones written after that depressing period in his life, so he figured his worry could work as something of an excuse to visit the pair of them in the castle. 

As he walked through the halls, he found himself familiar with the interiors, despite how long he hadn’t been there. It was like muscle memory, eyes sweeping over the glass ceiling that let down blue-tinted light onto the ground and made him feel like he was illuminated. It was akin to being an angel of sorts, or the same sort of glow that Phil’s holographic feathers would get in any lighting. Wilbur was a bit jealous of those, but his ability to shapeshift into a crow was good enough to keep him going. 

He paused as he caught sight of someone in the dining hall by themselves, squinting as he saw it wasn’t anyone he recognized. Wilbur made his way a bit closer, standing by the doors as he examined who was sitting at the large mahogany table. It was a child, he realized after a moment. Looked to be around six, scribbling at what looked like scraps of parchment with crayons and a cow plush sat in front of him.    
  
Something of a smile grew on his face as he saw how focused the child was on his drawing before snapping himself out of it, reminding himself that Phil and Techno didn’t have any kids and Tommy most certainly did not look anything like that. The child was a hybrid of some sort, however, so maybe they had taken him in to make sure he was safe for the time being. The excuse felt flimsy, but he made his way into the dining hall nonetheless, walking up nonchalantly. 

The child’s head snapped up the moment he made a move inside, though he didn’t seem very scared as he looked up to Wilbur. The man was pleasantly surprised as he made his way closer, testing his limits with the child before he looked back at his paper, continuing to scribble with his crayon. 

“Who’re you?” Wilbur asked after a moment, voice low as he asked the question. He was standing overtop the child, almost overshadowing his paper in the process. The child looked up at him, blinking before he answered. 

“Ranboo. Who’s you?” He asked in return, abandoning his paper in favour of questioning the stranger that had come up to him. Wilbur found it a bit odd, but he didn’t comment, instead opting to lower himself to crouch, balancing on his feet with his arms wrapped loosely around his knees. 

“Wilbur.” Ranboo nodded in response, turning back to his paper as his eyes narrowed, focusing on the cow plush that had been set in front of him. Wilbur leaned over, curious to see what he had been drawing only to see the child flinch back at the movement. He carefully moved back, watching Ranboo stay stiff and worried. He decided to take a gamble, standing up from where he was crouched and moving to sit on the chair next to him. 

“D’you know Phil and Technoblade?” Wilbur asked Ranboo, watching as he lit up, a bit of the tension leaving his body at the mention of the two. 

“Yeah, they’re re-really nice. Mr. Philza has cool wings,” Ranboo said happily, Wilbur stifling the urge to laugh at the term, ‘Mr. Philza.’ Instead, he nodded in agreement, resting his head on his hand as his elbow propped him up on the table. 

“Yeah, they are pretty cool. What do you think of Techno?” He asked, engaging in conversation with the child as he tried to get him to relax a bit more. Ranboo hummed, trilling a bit as he shuffled in his seat. 

“He’s funny,” Ranboo said decidedly, a new type of glee erupting in Wilbur at the news. Techno, willingly talking to a child and not scaring them. It was a far cry to the image he put out to the public and it was ironic that Ranboo would be complimenting him now. Wilbur found it to be pretty funny, however and didn’t bat an eye as he kept talking. 

“He gave- gave me Ranmoo and then told me my name was cool, and- and he reads me cool stories sometimes.” Wilbur snorted at that, drawing the attention of the child away from his drawing and to him instead. 

“Are they the Greek ones?” Wilbur asked, amused. Ranboo nodded rapidly in agreement, a bit of a smile growing on his face alongside Wilbur’s. 

“Did Mr. Tech’o tell you them, too?” Ranboo asked curiously, the question being genuine. Wilbur was just a bit distracted by the name he gave Techno, chest warming a bit as he heard it. 

“Mr. Techno?” He asked, repeating the name back to him. Ranboo nodded, picking up the black crayon in his hand as he turned to multitask, wanting to finish the portrait of his cow plush. 

“Yeah, he’s- It’sa nice way to say someone’s name. Mr-” Ranboo cut himself off, a frown overtaking his face that Wilbur didn’t like all that much. Ranboo shook his head, scribbling on his paper as he smoothed his face out and continued speaking. “Somebody taught me that.” 

With something of a sinking heart or bittersweetness filling the pit of his stomach, he could piece together something of a story that would lead to Ranboo’s sudden appearance in Phil and Techno’s lives. Someone had been hurting Ranboo, at the very least shouting at him constantly and just being terrible in general. And Phil had found the stray and decided that he would keep the little hybrid child, who was now scribbling away a portrait of a cow plush that the Blood God had given him. 

  
Either that or Wilbur was reading into things just a bit too much. He was willing to take the risk, though, letting his head slide from his hand and put his arms on the table in front of him, resting his head on top of them. He didn’t say much as Ranboo worked away at his own drawing quietly, seemingly scared silent after the mention of the ‘someone’ who taught him about nice ways to say people’s names, or so he said. 

Eventually, Ranboo spoke up, looking over from his drawing. “Are you- Are you good at draw-ring?” He asked, his voice tinged with an accent that was reminiscent of Phil’s. With how the man was rubbing off on the child, Wilbur could infer that he had been there for a while now. Wilbur shook his head, laughing a bit as he lifted his head from the pillow he had made of his arms. 

“No, I’m a different type of artist. Do music and stuff.” He took a peek at the drawing that Ranboo had been working on, smiling as he saw it. It was a bit messy, as any drawing by a… six? Seven? Year-old would be, but it was still pretty nice. It resembled the plushy, matched the colours. He even gave the same black, heart-shaped nose that the plushy had on it. 

“That’s a pretty good drawing, Ranboo. Have  _ you  _ considered being an artist?” The hybrid hummed, looking at his picture a bit closer. 

“Are you- are you sure I should? Being an artist sounds hard,” Ranboo said, his words ending with something of a lisp as he spoke. Wilbur tilted his head a bit questioningly, curious. 

“How so?” He asked, wanting to hear the answer from him. The child was a bit odd, different from those he had met before. It was what had drawn Wilbur’s attention in the first place, but following through on the feeling was something he hadn’t considered. 

“Well, everyone’s- everyone’s means to them. About stuffs that they made for fun. I don’t like it that much, I don’t think that anyone else- else would, either. Is mean,” Ranboo explained simply, Wilbur a bit confounded with the answer. It was something… that he hadn’t expected from someone who had looked so young. Not that he meant it in an insulting way, but he was surprised that he was agreeing with it. 

Wilbur nodded in reply, rapping his knuckles against the wood carefully. “Yeah, that seems like a good reason not to be an artist. But you can be an artist for yourself, yeah?” 

Ranboo frowned a bit at the answer, though it wasn’t like the frown from before. It was a lot more confused than one of genuine hurt. “What d’you mean?” 

“Well, I make songs sometimes. That’s a type of artist, yeah?” At the nod of agreement from the child, Wilbur continued. “Sometimes, I write stuff that I show no one at all. Just for me and my guitar. Does that make me less of an artist?” 

Ranboo pondered the answer for a bit, pulling his plush off the table as he did so. He hugged the cow to his chest, shrugging. “I dunno.” 

Wilbur muffled a bit of a chuckle. “It doesn’t, believe it or not. You could do that, too, if you want. Make your own art and not show anyone unless you want to.” Ranboo tipped his head to the side slightly. 

“Isn’t that like a secret? Those’re- Those are bad,” He said, a bit of juvenile concern slipping into his voice at the thought. Wilbur shook his head, reaching into his jacket to pull a journal out of his large pocket. 

“Not so much of a secret, it’s like… A good one. Not a bad one. Like a diary, a diary isn’t a bad secret, is it?” He asked, gaining a hesitant nod from the hybrid. Wilbur nodded in return, laying the book on the table and patting it twice. 

“Not showing people some stuff isn’t a bad thing. Everyone needs something for themselves. I’m sure there’s something you know that you haven’t told anyone. That’s not bad, that’s just normal. Everyone does that,” Wilbur tried to explain, keeping the terms simple as to not overwhelm the child. He seemed to understand, however, nodding almost seriously at the words. 

“You’re kind of weird, Mr. Bur,” He informed the man, drawing an abrupt, delighted laugh out of the man. Ranboo couldn’t help but laugh along, muffling it into his plush while Wilbur threw his head back and let himself be loud. He stopped after a moment, clapping his hands in front of him before picking up the book and tucking it back in his pocket. 

  
Wilbur looked up to catch sight of the time, finding himself to be about ten minutes late to a meeting he was supposed to overlook between two countries that had  _ very  _ bad blood. He cursed under his breath, getting up from the table as Ranboo’s eyes followed him. He turned back to the child, a bit of an apologetic smile on his face. Wilbur didn’t want to leave him there with nothing to show for his visit, so he rooted through his pockets until he found an empty journal and threw it onto the table, Ranboo watching it slide against the dark wood. 

“Listen, Ran-bow, I’m really late to something, yeah? I have to go, but tell Phil and Techno that Wilbur said hi, yeah?” Ranboo nodded at the question, his eyes widening as the man morphed in a blur of light and particles into the form of a crow, flying out of the large doors of the dining room and out. 

Wilbur would have to visit Techno and Phil more often, it seemed. 

**Author's Note:**

> speedran the fuck out of this. fear me. i can do anything. also enjoy the fluff <33 shapeshifter wilbur <333 baby ranboo <3333
> 
> im in a good mood writing this series its so awesome


End file.
